‘EBM’, then, goes some way to bringing the seasoned band back to what they do best, all the while pushing things forward.

On ‘Born Pink’, BLACKPINK tread familiar thematic territory for pop music, but the imagery – finding solace from heartbreak at the bottom of a bottle (‘The Happiest Girl’), boasting about being the type of girl you take to your “mama house” (‘Typa Girl’) – isn’t particularly novel, though they have effectively applied a personal touch in the past (see Jennie’s ‘Solo’).

Maya Hawke might not be preparing to go back to school, as the character at the heart of this record would be but, if she were, ‘Moss’ would guarantee her top grades.

This is the sound of a band at their most confident, capable of still pushing the boundaries they seemingly reimagined years ago without overwhelming audiences with their own love for endless improvisation. There are no lyrics on this album, but it feels like you can hear these three musicians louder than ever.

With ‘God Save The Animals’, these genre-resistant idiosyncrasies remain, though a few moments shine through with newfound clarity and vulnerability. Across the diverse and consistently excellent 13-track record, he hops between styles, perspectives and energies with abandon.

Genres may come and go, but Sawayama’s second album is defined by her ability to fashion each of these sounds into big, brilliant pop songs. The best British pop album of the year.

Mura Masa has again pooled disparate guests and sounds to make a record that is somehow both steeped in a sense of curation and individual to his artistic identity.

Blake Mills’ production is exquisite throughout what is Mumford’s most crafted studio recording to date; this album is a career-best for the musician. While it is undoubtedly an emotional and often heart-breaking listen, it’s also a record full of defiance, hope and faith.

This is a Suede record, so there are moments of aching majesty – see the tormented ‘It’s Always The Quiet Ones’, ‘Turn Off Your Brain And Yell’ and the hopelessly devoted ‘What Am I Without You’ (which sees Anderson giving himself to his fans) – but, all in all, ‘Autofiction’ finds the indie greats getting back in the garage to make a racket.

This isn’t just a striking return for one of the most individual bands of the last 20 years; it is, musically, an astounding masterpiece. Their finest hour? Quite possibly.

Shedding old skins with jubilance, ‘Expert in A Dying Field’ is testament to the belief that better things are always yet to come. For us as listeners, they’re already be here.

‘Asphalt Meadows’ is as assured and stately as you’d expect and hope for from indie veterans now 10 albums and 25 years into their career, but this beaut is as consistent and satisfying as their early-mid ‘00s career peak.

It’s a fizzing piece of hard-rock magic.

The results are beautiful, moving and – regardless of subject matter – brilliantly inventive.

Spirituals’ gets more brutalist as it goes on, weaving its way from tropical space-pop through cosmic reggae to the gothic R&B cranks and coils of ‘Ain’t Ready’ and, finally, to ‘Fail First’, a wonderfully New Order-ish concoction of indietronic chug, industrial grunge guitars, spectral cheerleader chants and punkoid yells.

‘I Love You Jennifer B’ is the product of a voracious appetite to find the gaps in between the familiar, a record emblazoned with such pristine, disorienting, unsettling originality that at first, you don’t quite know what to do with it.

If Two Door are to hold onto anything from ‘Keep On Smiling’, it should be the playful, curious moments that convey a sense of fun, even if that’s deceptive. When things get serious on this record, the band stumble and the smiles begin to slip.

His most confident, cohesive album.

Where it works best is that clear marriage of anger and aspiration, interwoven with Furman’s melodic drawl, musical tenderness and reverb. In parts, though, ‘All of Us Flames’ is an example that sometimes less is more.

Beautiful. These are soft, lush pieces that deep-dive into life’s everyday moments and turn them into something extraordinary.

Boasting their strongest set of songs for an age.

The vocals and instrumentation help the album ultimately overcome its few shortcomings, such as its occasionally unwieldy lyrics (“I’m scared of flies / I’m scared of guys” is one such culprit on ‘Valentine’). Yet the lyrics also give us one of ‘Everything I Know About Love’’s primary delights: Laufey’s candid self-expression wrapped in the dreamy lilt of the old jazz standards.

Confidence is channelled in compelling directions, as The Chats come for everyone and anyone trying to ruin the feel-good party vibes. Poking fun at ticket inspectors, beach racists and boy racers, this record finds them fighting jobsworths and ignorance with laughter.

Aitch’s debut draws on local heritage but remains heavily anchored in a forward-thinking rap blueprint. With the ‘cheeky chappy’ mask tucked slightly back (if not fully removed), and a more introspective attitude on show, it’s an even more powerful formula.

Yes, ‘Viva Las Vengeance’ is a very different Panic! At The Disco album, but it stays true to their devil-may-care attitude.

If ‘Holy Fvck’ is a funeral for Lovato’s pop music, it also marks a new beginning, with an artist reborn. As the musician explores this ferocious sonic world and celebrating her musical roots, it’s the start of a bold new era.

When she steers away from pastiche and fully delves into cataloguing the mundanity, pomposity and sheer ridiculousness of grotty Little England, she’s at her best as a songwriter.

Green’s studio debut is relentlessly vibrant, an album that writhes and squirms in the eternally unpleasant truth that we are creatures of inconsistency and contradiction.

‘Freakout/Release’ certainly isn’t a complete misfire. Its loose premise of retooling negative feelings to a positive end is sometimes realised, though it was always going to be difficult to evoke the sparkly catharsis of its dizzying predecessor.

The album features more deep cuts than you’d expect from a Megan Thee Stallion record, but it shows just how she’s pushed her pen since ‘Good News’, while also illustrating her broad musicality.

Sylvan Esso’s fourth offering doesn’t dwell in solitude, despair, or desire for escape. Instead, it resides in what is left after the darkness clears: tighter connections to the surrounding world and the people who populate it. To borrow Meath and Sanborn’s own words, the album is a bold and defiant example of what could happen when you walk back into the world, “wilder and stranger” than before.

Surprising, eclectic and intimate.

Danger Mouse and Black Thought remain firmly in their comfort zones, and though the record constantly delights, it rarely surprises. It seems a little churlish, however, to criticise two greats for simply living up to their own high standards. ‘Cheat Codes’ is brilliant.

The Sheeran-featuring ‘Peru”s inclusion on the tracklist of ‘Playboy’ is a further nod to his rise. But this album more than demonstrates that its creator is no one-hit wonder.

On ‘Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 2’, the producer meshes a wistful grab-bag of influences – nu-disco, funk, boogie, soul – with his skill for creating a mega-watt pop-hit, taking listeners on a journey on a psychedelic trip you won’t want to end.

While it’s heartwarming to see Lauv’s newfound openness, the album is – ironically, given his most persistent theme – missing a little something.

As much fun as the big names prove to be – Thundercat’s turn on ‘Bowling’, .Paak on ‘Moon’ – it’s often more thrilling to hear DOMi and Beck go at it alone.

Despite its strong start, the sagging back end of ‘Las Ruinas’ unfortunately means that this mixtape isn’t likely to stick in the memory for long – here’s hoping Rico comes back stronger next time.

‘Yesterday Is Heavy’ is a bold and inventive step forward from an artist who has been threatening to make this kind of artistic statement for some time.

Perhaps ‘Shatter’ is almost too powerful. Once it’s over, the rest of the album feels much more muted – still pretty, still pleasant, still thought-provoking, but like the energy that came before has been spent.

There is little Beyoncé has to prove to anyone 25 years down the line, but the start of this “three act project” proves that she’s still able to push herself and delve into new sonics, styles and ethos.

‘Hold On Baby’’s brightest moments may be more than enough to keep the die-hard KP fans hooked, but this feels like a missed chance to offer up something truly surprising.

While her commitment to reviving the golden age of hip-hop by harking back to the likes of Lil’ Kim and Foxy Brown is admirable, it looks like we’ll have to wait for Milli’s next release for that consistent collection of sure-fire hits we know she’s capable of delivering.

This is a creative period, one suspects, that both fans and White alike will look back on as one of his most complete and satisfying yet.

‘The Theory Of Whatever’ shows that – unless he chooses to hit the eject button for himself – Jamie T should be sticking around for a lot longer.

Working Men’s Club certainly wear the trauma well, but this riveting exploration truly thrives by seeking the light beyond the gloom.

As introductions go, this record makes for a warm and welcoming one – even if it doesn’t stray too much from what you’d expect.

‘About Last Night…’ leaves you with your ears ringing, hooks stuck in your head and a healthy dose of dancefloor catharsis that’ll make you feel lighter – much like the jacket you forgot to collect from the cloakroom.

‘Gemini Rights’, which feature his most direct compositions yet, will make the ‘cult artist’ tag surrounding Lacy increasingly redundant.

It flows in a way that makes it a treat to enjoy from start to finish rather than dipping into songs at random. ... Thought-provoking and full of fresh new flavour.

Though ‘Special’ clocks in at a brisk 35 minutes, it succeeds in capturing all facets of Lizzo’s megawatt personality.

Far from a total reinvention, but all adds up to a confident, rewarding and subtly adventurous new chapter for Interpol.

‘Hellfire’ delivers more musical thrills and about-turns per minute than few other records we’ve heard this year. Sounding more assured of their creative agility than ever before, ‘Hellfire’ is the work of a very special group of alchemists.

The world of ‘Beatopia’ is finally in full bloom again as its creator embraces not only the vibrant colours of their own imagination, but the magic of letting the world in to see.

It’s commendable that aespa are not resting on their laurels or churning out sound-a-likes of what’s worked before, but this project doesn’t showcase the spark that made them special in the first place.

This album shows that Pearson isn’t shying away from darker themes. Instead, she guides the listener through new sonic terrains and out into the light.

If the worst of times brings out the worst in people, Viagra Boys are set to be icons of the age, and ‘Cave World’ its defining document.

Sharp and powerful.

‘Love, Damini’ had the potential to be the biggest record of Burna’s to date, full of heart and rhythmic passion. But it falls frustratingly short: too often the tunes are repetitive and, other than the aforementioned highlights, don’t show much progression.

The ambition on show throughout ‘Household Name’ is to be lauded in itself, and Momma deserve to be viewed like the rockstars they sing of.

It may be theatrical, but ‘Superache’ still feels deep and honest. Cut through the crescendoes and you’ll find real tenderness.

This is a colourful, energised collection of work from an artist who could comfortably stay in her own lane, but chooses not to.

By now, it should be clear that this lot know how to pen a whopper of a pop anthem – that remains apparent here – but more crucially ‘MUNA’ also serves as solid evidence of a band with many more chapters of evolution up their sleeves yet.

This is nuanced, purposeful songwriting from an artist growing in power.

‘Honestly, Nevermind’ is an unexpected elevation from the bland trap, R&B remakes and Drake’s melancholic attitude to love we heard last time around. He doesn’t quite shift the latter as much as one would hope – the album is as tiresomely woe-is-me as anything he’s ever done – but the house sound has at least given him the creative boost that his recording career has been crying out for recently.

Rightly championed as a vital new voice in the world of rock, Nova Twins haven’t let any of that pressure get in the way of creating a flamboyant, fantastic second album that’s as playful as it is powerful.

‘Ugly Season’ might be indulgent, but Hadreas is still able to weave in the tender and immediate songwriting that made ‘Set My Heart On Fire’ so engaging (just as he wove his experimental streak into that record).

There are no meaty rockers like ‘Inhaler’ or ‘What Went Down’, or slow and sprawling mini epics like ‘Spanish Sahara’, ‘Late Night’ or ‘Neptune’, but we need something else right now. ... Foals are still peaking.

[‘Gold Rush Kid’ is] a fun and curious ditty, yet the songwriting frustratingly positions Ezra as someone who got lucky, rather than an ambitious auteur ready to set his own fate after years of hardship. Elsewhere, though, this theme comes secondary to descriptions of a crisis induced by losing control, with bright, almost homespun production tasked with keeping our narrator grounded.

A consistently interesting set that reminds you that Neneh Cherry didn’t just come up with visionaries like The Slits and Massive Attack, but truly became one in her own right.

Though inspired by the endless waiting felt during the moving statues phenomenon in ‘80s Ireland, where religious statues reportedly moved spontaneously, there’s no anticipation for a holy punk apparition here. Everything we could have expected with ‘Time Bends and Break the Bower’ has been delivered.

The occasional outdated attitude and some light filler material here and there aside, ‘Twelve Carat Toothache’ is another step up for Post Malone. It’s a record that feels distinctively, inimitably him and succeeds in his goal of sharing his truth.

Just as on her recent EP of ’80s cover songs, ‘Aisles’, Olsen approached the decade’s tropes with care, and at no point does ‘Big Time’ descend into parody. Though it uses them in the same way those aforementioned greats did, to access the deep and real emotion at a song’s core and open it up to her listener as something irresistible.

Across 31 minutes and just seven songs, Poliça are impeccably focused on ‘Madness’, packaging up their first decade as a band into a neatly formed, bite-sized package.

Compelling from its first note to its very last, the record presents a band who, yes, are still in their infancy, but clearly know who they are and what that sounds like.

It’s light and transcendent, but also grounded and assured of itself even in its most vulnerable moments.

Out of necessity, the sonic experimentation is braver, too, as if to emphasise the intensity of the feelings that Templeman examines throughout. The songs are immediate and involving.

If the best country music has always been about storytelling, then on ‘Cruel Country’ Wilco are delivering it in its purest form.

At once experimental and familiar enough to keep his stunning second act on course, ‘C’mon You Know’ finds Liam Gallagher having his cake and eating it – and there’s plenty to go round at this party.

A truly unique gem. ... The band have said they want ‘Heart Under’ to feel like the experience of driving through a tunnel with the windows down. Through deliciously inventive musicianship they’ve created something even more thrilling.

A few good lyrics (“You’re in love with the future / I don’t know why”) and some bad (“Why don’t you listen to your momma? / She’s old”) stick out, but the narrative hook is stronger in theory than in practice. ... The music on ‘Raw Data Feel’ is the band’s best, catchiest and most focused to date.

After living with it for a while, you’ll come to appreciate ‘EYEYE’ as a record that breathes, sighs and will leave you lost in the same dazed revery that these tracks were born from.

[The] change in pace makes for a welcome modification to the Flume sound, which is elevated by his rich, newfound sonics. Yes, Streten can still soundtrack your night out, but on ‘Palaces’ he’ll also gently bring you back down to Earth when morning comes.

Porridge Radio are sharpening their craft, but they’re not pretending anything’s any easier, and that’s what makes them such a uniquely compelling band.

‘Harry’s House’ is undoubtedly Styles’ best record yet and presents a musician comfortable and confident in what he wants to create right now.

It’s one of the deepest cuts we’ve had from Kendrick. While ‘good kid, m.A.A.d city’ showed the world what it’s like to grow up as a kid in Compton, his fifth album serves up vignettes about what it’s like to be a Black adult whose trauma still haunts them.

The blues kings show no signs of turning off their well-beaten path here, but they’re still capable of conjuring enough magic on the journey.

In cutting some new shapes, this supergroup have been set loose to make some of the most arresting and satisfying music of their careers.

It feels like a joyous, slowly unfurling epiphany. It’s a gift to be able to listen in.

Epic in sound and vision, its sprawling Americana and gritty rock’n’roll taking in the big themes.

There’s no sense of bet-hedging in its lengthy runtime and no real filler. It’s the sound of an artist in his imperial phase doing as he pleases without needing to try too hard: not just a low-key flex, but a richly entertaining listen.

The record doesn’t feature a bunch of seminal tracks, instead packing filler between his knockout singles such as ‘First Class’. You’ll find a gem or two here and there, but this collection’s longevity is questionable.

Pushing the boundaries of their sound and leaning into pointed lyricism, this record is a welcome new chapter for the band.

Philosophically, they haven’t been so focussed since 2010’s ‘The Suburbs’, nor so musically dramatic since 2007’s ‘Neon Bible’. Subscribe.

The album is excitingly dynamic as it cycles through its varied but unified vibes – whether that’s the uptempo, dancey ‘Hips’; the spacey, seductive ‘Like Sweetness’; or the moody ballad ‘Trouble’. There’s a maturity to the lyrical content here, which by no means undercuts its playfulness.

‘Headful Of Sugar’ sees the band more confident and more in control. Using those feelings of helplessness as fuel for the fire, this album is full of enough strength, empowerment, resilience and joy.

All of the well-worn Belle and Sebastian hallmarks are present, but what’s truly impassive is how effortless it all sounds this time around.

It may lack the immediacy of 2018’s hookier ‘Remind Me Tomorrow’, but this unyielding record is, at times, a powerful reckoning with the age of uncertainty.